Worthless
by TheAwesomePrussia18
Summary: Germany and Prussia fight. Prussia wonders his worth after getting shitfaced drunk.


The room was dark and the only light shining in was from a half covered window, the foggy pale yellow light filtering in around a black curtain. The light landing on several scattered beer bottles on the white carpet of the floor and a man leaning against the door to the room, his white hair disheveled and his red eyes looked redder with the whites being bloodshot. With a shuttering movement of his hand he reached into the beer case only to find that it was empty, he swore under his breath in German and glared down at the floor. His vision blurring slightly when he lifted his head to stare at the window, everything shifting quickly making the albino feel suddenly dizzy.

He winced when someone downstairs yelled and he pulled his knees to his chest to rest his forehead on the top of the black jeans over his pale legs. "Dammit… I'm fucking worthless…" He muttered miserably closing his bloodshot eyes and tried to block out the angry German words yelled at him when the other voice got closer to his bedroom door. Gilbert muttered under his breath in a slightly different language and tangled his hands in his hair, covering his ears trying to block out what the German Nation was saying.

They were both emotional sadists and apparently neither one could put up with the other tonight. Only instead of the Prussian ex-Nation having the upper hand his younger brother was on a roll with pointing out everything wrong Gilbert had done as a Nation and that no matter how hard he tried he would never be able to make amends with everyone he hurt or double crossed. Granted Gilbert wasn't the greatest person or Nation to be around back then, but he had changed since he Dissolved. He had apologized to Hungary and Austria, tried to make himself a better person and even fell in love; hell the Nation he had fallen in love with was one of the most kindhearted, badass countries out there and he had two wonderful kids with said Nation. But within a few hours of fighting with Germany, Prussia had been reduced to a drunken idiot questioning his own importance.

Tears fell slowly from the Prussian's eyes and down his pale cheeks. "West! Go the fuck away!" He yelled, his voice cracking as a cry and a cough racked his frame. The sound of thudding footsteps told the ex-Nation that his younger brother was satisfied in making him cry and had walked away. "Why does he love me…?" Gilbert said his voice falling to an inaudible whisper as he talked to himself. The self-confidence that once shown in his eyes was gone when he lifted his head and stared up at the ceiling, red eyes shined with sadness and unshed tears. "After everything I've done why would he even want to be with me? When he was a kid I acted like he didn't even exist unless France had me babysit him… And even when I did fall for him I still acted like a dick… Doesn't he see I could screw up at any point and ruin everything?" He said hating the feeling of worthlessness running through his veins. "I'm not even supposed to be alive." He said forcing himself to his feet, he swayed in his standing position and grabbed the door frame for balance. The world in front of him shifted to the side and he was forced to tilt his head to the side to make everything look clear.

After a moment of standing he tried to step forward and only fell back, his back hitting the door and sliding back down to the floor. The old scars on his back flared with pain in protest to the grain of the wood digging into the healed over flesh. Gilbert bit back a cry of forgotten pain and dropped his head so he looked down at his hands in his lap; both of his pale arms were covered in healed over scars from so many forgotten battles. He looked over to the long sleeve black shirt he had been wearing and looked away when he noticed the rips in and felt the newer wounds flare with pain at the reminder. A rather loud scream of anger escaped his throat and he threw his head back to glare at the ceiling, his head hitting the door. His hands balled into fists and he turned quickly to punch the door, now that he was sitting on his knees.

Gilbert didn't say anything but he stayed like that for a few moments, glaring at the door and the hole now in it as he ignored the pain throbbing in his fist from the impact and the splintered wood stuck in the flesh. His breathing was relatively calm despite his drunken-angered-saddened haze; carefully he stood back up and put one hand out to keep balance while the other was still balled in a fist. Red eyes noticed the splintered wood in his hands and he tilted his head to the side to stare at it for a moment, as if confused as to why or how it had gotten there. Shacking off his confusion he pulled his fist back and made contact with the wall next to the door, pain shot up his arm but was unnoticed by the Prussian as he gritted his teeth against the feeling.

A yell from Germany caused Gilbert to glance at the door that he stood so close to. Any moment now the German Nation would come back up stairs to see what Prussia was destroying and Gilbert wasn't sure he could contain his anger long enough to not punch his younger brother if Ludwig came up here. After all it was Germany who had allowed Hitler to take presence on Prussia's side of Germany all those years ago. And Germany who had let the Allies hand Gilbert over to Russia with no much as a care or wonder if his brother would be okay. Gilbert held his head high as he pulled his fist out of the wall and stood in front of the door, waiting for the younger to pull it open. After all his younger brother wasn't completely innocent, Prussia hadn't done everything wrong.

Gilbert heard the thud of boots walking down the hallway and he couldn't help the speeding up of his heart as they neared. Suddenly the door swung open and Gilbert was the first to throw the first punch, his fist connected fluidly with the German's right eye and the blonde staggered back a few steps in shock. Adrenaline shot through the Prussian's veins and despite being drunk he felt completely sober as the feeling of old battles, vengeance, vindictive, and victory flashed through his red eyes as he glared at the startled Nation standing across for him. "I was always the better man." He said in a growl and the look in his eyes dared the younger to deny him of this fact.

There was bitter laugh from the blonde and he wiped away the small trickle of blood the dripped out of his nose from the punch he gained from his older brother. "You were a disgrace." Ludwig spat lunging at the older. Gilbert side stepped and watched his brother tumble and fall to the floor of the other room, crushing a few of the bottles in the process. The Prussian thought over a few things in his drunken mind, one his younger brother had more muscle and was a little stronger; he was also sober, where as Gilbert was leaner with more fighting experience; but drunk of his ass.

Ludwig was on his feet in the seconds that Gilbert was thinking over his options and had the Prussian pinned against the wall of the hallway, his fist pulled back to drill the older in the face. Gilbert pulled his knee up and kneed the younger in the balls, quickly he moved his foot around and pushed the bigger German back; Ludwig's back connecting with the door frame with a loud thud. A few other things worked against Gilbert in this fight as well, once he realized it. He was shirtless and barefoot, also he didn't have his gun or pocket knife on him. While his brother was still fully clothed and Gilbert knew he had knives in either boot and had a gun under the waist band of his jeans. The iron cross around Gilbert's neck touched his heated skin and he was running down the stairs in a flat second, only to quickly be followed by the younger.

Gilbert felt arms around his waist and the two tumbled down the stairs the rest of the way, Gilbert hitting the ground with force; the scars on his back flaring with pain at the contact and his head slammed against the wooden floor with a loud thud. Calloused hands forced his shoulders back down on the floor and a knee pressed into his rib cage, making it harder for him to breathe. Pressing his hands against the floor he pushed up, knocking Ludwig slightly off balance, and kicked his bare feet against the slippery wood floor as he crawled away and got back up on his feet. "You were the disgrace!" He yelled, rolling his shoulders to pop one back into place with a loud pop, he gritted his teeth against the new pain and glared down at the German still on the floor. "Vater only loved you more because you were obedient! But guess what; he praised me more because I knew how cruel and unkind the world was back then! I kept you from that after he died!" Gilbert practically screamed his voice cracked as he back up a few steps when Ludwig stood back up. "I may have been a horrible person to the rest of the world, but that was because you couldn't be kind. I had you to think about and myself, and unlike you I didn't Dissolve my own brother out of fear of the Allies." He hissed in anger punching the younger in the stomach and chest, his knee coming in contact with Ludwig's head.

The younger German collapsed to his knees and dropped his hands to the floor, holding himself up as blood dripped from his nose and a new cut on his forehead. He hadn't taken into account the Nation his brother did use to be, or the pent up anger Gilbert still had after the Second World War. His brother's words rang through his ears and he looked up at the angry red eyes glaring down at him. The Prussian was panting after his yelling and his hands were balled into fists, but there was something about the truth in those words that made Ludwig drop his head in defeat.

Gilbert stared down at Ludwig and felt a little proud of himself for bring his younger brother to this point. Where he lacked in words he made up for in the force he always put behind his kicks and punches. His feeling of worthlessness was still flowing through his veins, but it was masked by anger and resentment against the German Nation. But just as suddenly as his feeling of being a Nation and an Empire flooded his veins it disappeared and he dropped to his knees, head in hands as he cried. Despite his angered speech he was still a dead Nation, with no land, with no use, no purpose, and no reason to even exist anymore. His pitiful existence only saddened him further and he cried harder, resting his head on the floor as his fist pounded the wooden boards beneath him. Sobs racked his frame and Ludwig stayed where he was, a good five feet away from his brother; who looked so broken and defeated that it actually made the German feel bad about what he had said earlier.

"Why the fuck am I still here!" Gilbert yelled at the floor, ignoring the pain that coursed through his body after their physical fight. Tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the floor, everything slowly coming into clarity as the alcohol he had consumed started to wear off. Eventually his body collapsed and his knees gave out, making him lay on his stomach on the floor; his head on one of his arms as he stared at nothing in particular. Despite his sudden sobriety and the pain throbbing his entire body exhaustion pushed to the fore front of his mind. At this point he didn't care that he was on the floor of their living room or the fact that Ludwig had picked the broken ex-Nation up off the ground and carried him back upstairs. As far as he was concerned he could die in his sleep and not care, but he knew that wouldn't happen and that he would wake up in the morning with a hangover and a sore body.

Carefully Ludwig laid his brother onto his bed, stepping around the scattered bottles and the shards of glass embedded into the carpet. Gilbert lay on his back and stared at the ceiling as his brother pulled a blanket over his body somewhat. "I'll call Matthew in the morning." Was all the younger German had said as he walked out of the room, the sound of crunching glass and a door shutting was the last thing the Prussian heard before exhaustion forced him into dark, black, and dreamless sleep.


End file.
